


Bring on the Storm

by roxyryoko



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Beta! we don't die like Glenn, Caspar's afraid of thunderstorms, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Lover's Quarrel, Post-Canon, Scardy Casp, Suggestive Themes, Taverns, there was only one tent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxyryoko/pseuds/roxyryoko
Summary: With a storm brewing and Caspar’s unease rising, too, Hilda  is determined to get them a room at a tavern even if they are a teeny-bit short on gold. If there's one thing Hilda's good at, it's persuading others into favors. There's no way she can be a disappointment tonight, right?Unfortunately, this tavern keeper might be the one man in the world impervious to her charms.Storms can't be that bad...can they?
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 23
Kudos: 39
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	Bring on the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super late, but here is part 1 of my Ultra Rare Pair Mini Bang fic! Art by the lovely [Shamanium](https://twitter.com/shamanium45%20rel=) will be featured in chapter 2!
> 
> Thank you Erica, Hyde, and Kaerra for helping me brainstorm argument comebacks!

Hilda stomped her boots outside the tavern door, adding another layer of mud to the soiled stone. Droplets of water flung off her cloak with each kick only to be replaced with others from the relentless downpour. Caspar stood in the threshold, holding the door open for her, bouncing a knee apprehensively. With a final lament for her ruined footwear, she trekked inside and offered him the best smile she could muster given the circumstances. He returned it half-heartedly and tucked his cloak tightly around his chest before turning his attention to the boisterous scene within the tavern. 

Weather-worn travelers filled every seat of the bar, some drinking solemnly while others stirred up an inebriated ruckus. A crowd loitered near the hearth, drying damp hair and soaked clothes amidst animated conversation. Barmaids buzzed around, hands full of plates and tankards to deliver to the hungry patrons, each host barely able to keep pace with the relentless orders. The tavern keeper milled behind the counter, offering Hilda and Caspar an exasperated greeting before shouting an order to the cooks.

Above the chatter and clatter, the rain pattered a chorus upon the roof and thunder rumbled low in the distance. 

Caspar withdrew further under his cloak and ambled into the room, peering up at the wooden sign above the bar. Hilda followed behind him, cautiously avoiding the slush of mud trekked in from the outside.

“Shit, we don’t have enough gold for a room,” Caspar groaned.

Hilda stopped at his side and investigated. The prices of room and board as well as drink and meals were etched into the oak, but a small square of wood nailed atop the board exposed a rapacious spike, no doubt taking advantage of those seeking refuge from the storm.

They were short on gold; it was true, and maybe Hilda was a teensy bit guilty for that predicament. Granted, she had attempted to refill their purse with the sale of her artisan jewelry earlier in the day. Unfortunately, the dreary weather had discouraged buyers at the market, and the increasing bouts of drizzle had soured Caspar’s mood to the point that Hilda suggested packing up early. Ultimately, they didn’t make a single sale.

Outside lightning flashed, illuminating the windows and the perimeter of the door. Another growl of thunder followed.

Caspar stiffened and Hilda’s heart ached.

If the storm continued its wayward path, there’d be little she could do to soothe the inevitable quiver in his voice and the tremor in his hands. The roar of thunder and the stampede of raindrops were the true villains Caspar could never defeat.

Yet, she refused to just wait around for the worst. She’d pacify his fears this time. Somehow.

Hilda hooked her arms around his waist and the familiar scent of him— the cinnamon rubbed into his clothes and the earthly musk of wanderlust— overwhelmed her senses. He started before dropping his gaze to meet hers. 

Chin perched on his chest, she smiled sweetly, hoping that her charm could soothe his nerves if only slightly. Perhaps it worked, for he relaxed under her embrace.

“Don’t worry, my dear Caspar,” Hilda said as she rubbed circles on his back. “I’m pretty sure I can persuade the innkeeper to reconsider that hefty price. And then we can each have a nice bath and there will be a warm fire and a soft bed.” Her smile turned coy. “I can think of a few things we can do to forget all about this silly storm.”

The anxiety in his eyes dissolved, replaced by playfulness. “Oh, yeah?” he replied, voice a low growl. “I like the sound of that. And...I think I’m gonna like it even more if those ‘things’ include that dress you bought the other day.”

“Oh, you like that one, do you?”

Caspar blushed. “Uh, yeah. You look...nice in it.”

“I see. ” She teased him with a pout. “You know, ‘nice’ really wasn’t what I was going for.”

“Uh, well, I actually meant _really_ nice! I mean, uh, sexy!” he flustered, and Hilda giggled. “Augh! I’m better showing you than explaining!”

The dress in reference as well as the culprit of Hilda’s splurge had been a sheer, blush-colored babydoll nightgown with a satin bow at the waist. Hilda had adored it the moment she saw it in the shop and Caspar had relented to adore it the moment she modeled it for him. Or rather, he had indulged her fun playing dress up, crooning compliments for as long as his weak-willed patience had lasted.

“I hope what you have in mind involves spoiling me as senseless as I plan to spoil you,” Hilda simpered before rising on her toes to smooch his mouth.

She felt him shiver under the press of her lips, and she couldn’t help but preen that for the first time that evening excitement not fear elicited the reaction. When she pulled away his mouth chased hers, further proving that his mind was already racing towards the evening's private activities, and, thankfully, away from the weather.

“You know I like to win, not tie,” he murmured, breath hot on her chilled cheeks.

This time Hilda quivered and Caspar flashed a row of white teeth as if triumphant, as if he was already competing. Truthfully, she was probably equally as eager to be clean and intimate after a week’s recess, but first, she needed to solve this minor setback.

“All right, just leave this to me,” she said as she released Caspar’s waist. 

Carefully, she pulled her damp hair out from under her cloak and then combed her fingers through the tresses, untangling knots. Once satisfied, Hilda arranged the heavy cloak artfully around her shoulders in order to reveal more of her figure. It was too cold in the inn to completely abandon it, but that worked out just fine. She’d played the game long enough to know that leaving some things to the imagination usually inspired more favors. 

The frown tugging at Caspar’s lips didn’t escape her notice. Although he’d sulk a bit in jealousy, he’d come around to commend her swindling once they reaped the results. Especially when she made it up to him with apologetic kisses and eulogizing coos. It was routine after a year of travel together.

As she tugged off her gloves and foisted them upon an unprepared Caspar, she continued, “I think a set of quartz and onyx earrings is easily worth a night’s stay and two hot meals, don’t you?”

She removed each of her own earrings and held them up, jiggling them for emphasis.

“Uh, I guess so?” Caspar replied, uncertainty in his tone. “I dunno. I lose track of what you sell ‘em for.”

Hilda giggled. Caspar was much more adept at weapon appraisal than jewelry, but usually he didn’t need to wrack his brain over market values and discounts when they worked their impromptu merchant stands. Caspar’s energetic, booming solicitation drew the crowd and Hilda alluring tactics secured profitable sales.

“I’d say they're worth _much_ more. What a generous deal I’m offering him. I’m sure his wife will be thrilled when she receives such a beautiful gift!”

With one final flounce of her hair, Hilda took off towards her target, weaving through the teeming throng with all the grace of a practiced dancer. Caspar held back begrudgingly, savvy to the ploy by now. There were times and places for an intimidating lover to stand by her side and this certainly wasn’t one of them.

After Hilda maneuvered around her final obstacle—two cackling, red-faced men—she reached the counter, where she grabbed the innkeeper’s attention with a wave and an affable smile. 

“What can I do for ya, missy?” he asked while refilling a tankard for a thirsty patron.

“Boy, I bet it’s been a crazy day for you, hasn’t it?” Hilda said, making sure to sound as empathetic as possible. “But wowie, just one look and I can tell how well this place is run! It's so busy and everything is still so under control!”

“Ya after a drink or a meal or a room?” he replied flatly, looking Hilda up and down with a scrutinizing eye before returning to pour more ale.

Hilda stifled her frown. Usually the conversation veered in a different direction.

“How about you throw in all three? And boarding for two horses, as well as some hot bath water.” Hilda leaned over the counter, better exposing her cleavage. Surely, a harmless _distraction_ would encourage a favorable transaction.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t paying her much mind.  
  
“Another round!” someone shouted a few seats down, slamming his tankard onto the table.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, gimme a sec,” the tavern keeper shouted back and grumbled as he snatched the tankard up. Busy filling it, he didn’t so much as offer Hilda a glance when he addressed her. “All that’ll be thirty-nine gold coins. Forty-five if ya friend ov’r there plans on eatin’ anythin’.”

“Oh, wow! What a, uh, great bargain.” Hilda barely concealed her incredulity, but proceeded to fix him her best puppy-dog eyes. “I can tell that you are a very astute entrepreneur. I’m certain that someone as savvy as you would know a good trade when one presented itself.”

With a forceful fling from the tavern keeper, the newly-filled tankard whizzed past Hilda. She jerked away from the counter in surprise.

“I’m not hurting for ya business, lady. Someone else will come around and take that room tonight, guarantee it.” He retrieved a rag from his pocket and began to wipe up the ale that spilled during the tankard’s flight.

Hilda placed the earrings on the table, right in the middle of his cleaning path. Finally he looked her way. Albeit, with a slight scowl. Before his eyes could flit away again, she voiced her proposition.

“You see, I just so happen to have several of my most sought after jewelry designs on hand. A _handsome_ man like you must have a”—she inspected his hand and found no ring— “special lady friend. Can you imagine the look on her face if you were to gift her such a beautiful set of earrings? Why, I assure you, she’ll be so enamored she won’t be able to keep her hands to herself! And all it will cost you is one measly room for two weary, drenched travelers.”

A drunk patron to her right barked, “Say, lady, what else are you willing to trade for a cozy bed? ‘Cause I can think of a few things _I’m_ in the market for.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and Hilda felt ill. 

Suddenly, a hand slammed onto the counter so hard that several tankards rattled. Hilda jumped with the rest of the room, but Caspar wrapped a protective arm around her waist and barred her from the man’s view.

“Wanna say that again?” he snarled. “Cuz I’m thinking my fists might be in the market for something too.” 

“Oh, there you are, darling,” Hilda tried to mitigate as the man shrunk under Caspar’s no-doubt vicious regard.

She put her hand on his chest, which wrenched his glare away from the scoundrel. Once she was certain she held his gaze, she fixed him with an endearing smile and hoped it conveyed that she had a handle on the situation.

The muscles in his neck relaxed momentarily, until another rumble of thunder shook the tavern. Then, his fingers clenched tighter around Hilda’s waist and she could feel his heartbeat bolt into a gallop under her palm.

His eyes widened right before he averted them and Hilda’s smile fell. 

Perhaps, the Hilda of six years ago would have given up on this failing ploy, but each apprehensive thump within Caspar’s chest only fortified her resolve to procure a comfortable shelter for the two of them. Once they’d secured their haven, she’d figure out how best to occupy his mind with thoughts of anything but the howling storm.

“Anyway,” Hilda said, returning her attention to the tavern keeper newly invigorated. She pushed the earrings further across the counter and summoned her most alluring doe-eyes. “We were about to make a deal before that unsavory interruption. A beautiful set of earrings for a night’s stay, two meals, hot water, and boarding for two horses in the stables. Considering what I normally sell these for, you are getting a great bargain!”

The tavern keeper sighed and looked down at the earrings again. “My price is my price, lady, and battin' your pretty eyelashes at me ain't gonna change it none.”

Caspar cast a sideline scowl at the unruly customer, crowing, " _My_ girl”—he then turned back to the tavern keeper— “makes the best jewelry out there! Just see for yourself!"

“Please sir.” Hilda puffed up her bottom lip. “We’re a bit short on gold at the moment, but I assure you these are made of precious gemstones that would fetch a hefty profit at market. Can’t you make an exception tonight? The weather is just awful, and I know it’s hard to trust others after so many bitter years at war, but I’m certain anyone who offered generosity to a stranger would earn the Goddess’s favor.”

He picked up one of the earrings with another sigh and Hilda preened with triumph. Was he a religious man? Did she finally find her angle?

“What did ya say these are made out of?” he asked.

“Onyx and—“

"Hey Innkeeper,” the companion of the scoundrel called, “if you take that silly little trinket for the cost of a room, what would ya pay my kid for her mighty fine craft? ‘Cause that tiny thing sure ain’t worth a room for a night."

"Yeah, more like an hour, maybe,” another laughed.

“Nah, that’s what ten minutes between that lady’s legs is worth!” chimed in the scoundrel. “The trinket, on the other hand, that might be worth—“

Like the fiery blast of a wyvern, several teeth spewed out of the man’s mouth when Caspar’s fist collided with his jaw. The force hurtled him into his guffawing friends, and they scarcely managed to gawk before Caspar leapt at them, fists a blurry barrage. Hilda wasn’t sure if anxiety ignited Caspar’s rage into a full-blown inferno, but he certainly walloped the trio with an unusual lack of mercy. 

Unfortunately, the tavern keeper also spared no mercy despite Hilda’s honeyed words and teary-eyes, and Caspar and Hilda soon found themselves outside the inn, rain dripping from their hoods at an even pace with Caspar’s bleeding nose.

* * *

"Honestly, Caspar," Hilda scoffed to Caspar’s back as their horse trudged through the muddy undergrowth of the forest. “I wish you would’ve just let me handle that.”

The rain had failed to cease since they left the town’s borders, instead continuing to tap a steady beat onto the hide hood of Hilda’s cloak. Chill and piercing, the accompanying wind threatened to blow the protective cover from her crown every few minutes, and despite her boiling anger, she felt sympathy for Caspar, who weathered the brunt of the gales, his broader frame providing an effective shield. 

Usually Hilda romanticized riding double, delighting in the rare treat to snuggle close to Caspar, who preferred to walk and lead their horse instead of joining her in the saddle. However, such fantasies were dashed by the harsh reality of clutching him for balance, not intimacy, and she’d give anything to hide from the tempest brewing between them. A frost clung to his body heat and a rigid tension coiled down his spine, and Hilda couldn’t tell if anger from their inn mishap or anxiety from the mounting storm was more the culprit.

Their ponyed cargo horse whinnied as the winds moaned ominously, but Caspar easily drowned out both sounds with his bellowing retort.

“Yeah, and that was going so well, wasn’t it? Don’t know if you noticed, but the innkeeper didn’t seem to be falling for your little scheme.”

“I was _bartering_ ,” Hilda protested, the reminder of her failure making her throat dry. “And I was moments away from striking a deal before you assaulted that poor man!”

Caspar jerked his head back, brows set deep in a bewildered scowl. Derisively, he barked, “Pfft! ‘Poor man’? That guy deserved it and you know it! Saying that about you, why, I should’ve—“

“ _Even_ if he did,” Hilda raised her voice to interrupt, “fighting is what got us kicked out.”

“Then I should’ve just taken the innkeeper out too. Problem solved.”

“Oh, yes, fighting the entire bar would have _really_ helped the situation.”

“Empty tavern means plenty of rooms for us!” Caspar snapped.

Hilda buried herself behind his back as another gust of wind ripped through the trees, and she grumbled, “It was just unfortunate that the _one_ innkeeper in Fodlan impervious to my charms would be in that town. Still, I’m sure I could have persuaded someone to take us in if you didn’t take your squabble to the streets.”

“My ‘ _squabble_ ’?” Caspar sneered back, voice crescendoing above the squalls. He shuffled up the saddle as if he could escape her touch, and continued pettily, “Fine, next time I’ll just let scum like that say all kinds of shit about you and look at you like _you’re_ what’s for sale. Won’t lift a finger to help.”

Hilda rolled her eyes. “Oh, Caspar, you know you wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry it upsets you, but you just have to get used to men acting—"

A boom of thunder engulfed the remainder of her words.

Suddenly, Caspar yanked the reins, jerking the horse to a halt. Hilda felt a shiver creep up his spine.

He turned his gaze to the sky. Past the thick treetops, dark clouds loomed ominously overhead, threatening to release a hellfire more savage than the current steady downpour. Far off in the distance, a cloud flashed a foreboding ivory glow, preceding another growl of thunder. 

Another shiver wracked Caspar’s body.

He threw the reins into one hand and said, “We gotta set up camp or we’re gonna be fucked.”

Lightning flashed again, and Hilda knew he was right, but she really, really didn’t want to set up camp nor suffer through the storm behind the flimsy walls of a tent. Especially, alongside an irate, soon-to-be-terror-stricken Caspar. As things stood currently, he’d find little comfort huddled under a blanket with her. In times past, he’d refused her embrace, wrapped his own arms around himself, and pretended that his body didn’t tremble at every roll of thunder and crash of lightning. She couldn’t even imagine how he’d react with a fiery temper and the current stress between them. She could count on him to be _stubborn_ , however.

And Hilda didn’t wish that upon either of them tonight.

“It’s a bit of a gamble, but maybe we'll get lucky and find a cozy little cottage just up the road?” Hilda tried. “With a lovely, wizened couple who will lend us shelter?”

Caspar threw a hand into the air and huffed, “Look at the sky. We don’t have time to gamble!”

Yup, she could count on Caspar to be stubborn. And that irritated her.

“You seemed to enjoy gambling when you started throwing punches!” Hilda groused as she begrudgingly slid to the horse’s rear, providing room for Caspar to dismount. 

He vaulted off the horse and, once on the ground, fumbled for a counter. “Well...well, usually you like _that!”_

“I’d have liked a soft bed and a bath more!”

Caspar puffed up in agitation, fixing Hilda a harsh look, but seemed at a loss for words. With an exasperated exhale, he stomped over to the packhorse saddled with their supplies, foregoing his normal gentlemanly assistance by leaving Hilda stranded atop the other horse. Angrily, he muttered an incantation.

“Apparently not as much as buying silly outfits!” he snapped, as a ball of fire sparked to life in one of his hands. The spell flickered, dissipated, and then rematerialized in a blaze that matched his rising volume. “Maybe if you would’ve ‘restrained’ your purchases we would have more convenient lodgings!” 

Hilda dug her fingernails into the saddle’s cantle. “You sure approved the purchase when I was wearing it!” 

“Stuff like that, it’s just coming off anyway, so what’s the point?” Caspar said with a shrug and then yanked open one of the bags fastened to the horse. 

“The point is I like to look cute, just like how _you_ like starting stupid fights!”

He offered a dismissive “humph,” but continued rummaging through the pack, juggling the stakes he found in one hand. Bitterly, Hilda struggled to crawl the rest of the way off the large horse. It started walking forward just as she swung one leg over its back. 

“Caspar!” she called as she dangled, gripping the saddle tightly. 

He glanced up a moment and then returned to his search, apparently lacking pity for her admittedly exaggerated struggle. 

“Seems to me you got a handle on the situation,” he said darkly, but he yanked the rope connecting the two horses, urging Hilda’s runaway to stop.

With an annoyed heave, Hilda flung herself off the horse and gagged when her boots sunk into the mud with a splash.

Caspar pulled the leather tent out of the pack and threw it over his shoulder. “Think you can manage to secure the horses now?”

His words dug a sword in her chest. Perhaps it was not his intent, but unfortunately Hilda could only hear the allusion to her earlier failures. Could she _manage_ to do anything right tonight? At this point she didn’t expect much likelihood of substantial successes.

Hilda just nodded and hoped he mistook the tears watering at the corner of her eyes for droplets of rain.

Caspar adjusted his cloak over his head and then took off in search of suitable trees to secure the tent to. The fire spell danced by his side, wavering with every new gust of howling wind and his every hesitating action.

The mare nickered as Hilda led her away, the ponyed cargo horse following in tow. Quickly, Hilda tied both sets of reins to the nearby bushes, granting the beasts less slack to roam than normal. 

A flash of lightning illuminated the surrounding trees, and Hilda counted the seconds before the thunder rolled. 

One. Two. Three. 

The storm was close. 

Hilda shivered and glanced back at Caspar.

The leather tent billowed and flapped, covering and revealing him as he struggled to tie it to the tree trunks. His haste did more than impede his handiwork; the harsh set of his features belied the brave face he'd worn as a thinly veiled facade. With a frustrated huff, he clamped his teeth around the rope to yank out a mistake.

A ghost-like moan accompanied the next rush of wind, and two consecutive strikes of lightning clashed not too far in the distance. 

Caspar plucked out the grounding charm hidden under his shirt and rolled it between his fingers as the thunder boomed. Under the light of his magical flare, Hilda could clearly see how his teeth gritted together and how he squeezed his eyes closed, struggling to calm his breathing.

Perhaps he felt the intensity of her gaze, for he glanced at her and then dropped the pendant, turning away in what could only be interpreted as shame. 

Hilda did all she could do for him in that moment and hurriedly finished the second knot. With a final tug, the horses were secure, and she quickly gathered what she could from the packhorse: a bag of clothes, the kettle, and Caspar’s axe. 

Caspar had just finished the tent when she approached, hands full. Swiftly, she set them down in the shettle, and made her way back to the horses for a second load.

“I’m gonna start gathering firewood,” Caspar said abruptly, exasperation etched in his lilt. “Or the rain’s gonna ruin it all.”

Hilda heaved another satchel off the horse. “If you give me a second, I can go with you.”

“I’ve got it,” he huffed. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Thunder crashed again, louder than all previous. Caspar’s fire spell vanished with the rumble, leaving them in darkness. 

“Shit!” Caspar cursed as he ignited another flame.

His legs shook violently and he fiddled with the grounding charm yet again. Hilda’s concern grew.

She threw the bag into the tent. “No, really, let me help. I insist.”

Caspar’s brow drew. “I told you, I’ve got it. You always want me to handle everything any other time, so don’t bother now. I should’ve handled the tavern situation myself too. Then we wouldn’t be stuck out here.”

The rain poured down from the sky at a merciless pace now. Almost as merciless as the blade piercing Hilda’s heart.

“Caspar,” Hilda gasped, throat dry. “That’s not...I wanted us to stay in the inn for you! Because I know how much thunderstorms terrify you! If you’d have just trusted me to do my thing— ”

“They don’t _terrify_ me!” he roared back, voice peaking over another boom of thunder. 

His composure ruffled, revealing the lie, but he puffed back up again with a defiant anger. 

“Nothing scares me, you got that? I’ve gambled my life in countless battles. I’ve fought the Death Knight! You think I’m scared of _this_?” He gestured wildly to the sky.

Hilda stepped forward and placed a hand on his bicep. “Caspar, it’s okay to be afraid of things like this. We look after each other, right? You protect me, I patch you up. Sometimes I want to protect you too, so let me come— ”

Caspar backed away from her touch. “I don’t need coddling!” 

Lightning cracked, a sinister trail spearing serpentine across the starless sky. The resounding thunder followed in quick pursuit. In a blink, the fire dispelled, but the pulsing blue hues illuminating the woods showed Hilda every ghost in Caspar’s eyes and every taut muscle in his jaw. His hands clenched into tight fists, tighter than he ever held them during a fight. And Hilda knew this was a fight Caspar wouldn’t walk away a victor.

She hated seeing the man she loved so possessed with fear, and hated even more the shame that hung in his eyes for exposing such a vulnerability. 

He turned with a jerk, teeth gritted, eyes averted, and before he could take a second step, Hilda summoned all that strength she always hid and shoved him right into the tent. 

After a tense pause, Caspar blinked up in bewilderment from the ground.

“I’m getting the firewood,” she said, defiant. “You stay here!”

In a huff, Hilda stormed off into the trees, leaving Caspar alone with only the patter of rain on the tent. 

She wouldn’t fail him anymore tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/roxyryoko)! As always, kudos and comments are appreciated.


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